BODY.TXT is a 200-page field manual for the soul, built for clarity in a world of static.
A synthesis of philosophy, diagram, and raw meditation, it distills ideas on self-regulation, identity, and spiritual architecture. For those who value depth over distraction.
Printed on 80lb matte stock with a 100lb matte-laminated cover, weight in the hand, texture under the fingertips. The perfect-bound spine is meant to be broken in, lived with, and returned to.
Produced in small batches. Not a magazine. Not a book. A physical thought-object, designed for slowness, precision, and presence.
For the seeker, the skeptic, the quiet builder of inner worlds,
BODY.TXT is an anchor. A mirror. A reminder.
Limited Inclusion — While Supplies Last
Each BODY.TXT zine ships with a Thai coin amulet necklace from my curated sacred collection. Somewhere within these 200 pages, a sentence may speak to you. A truth may land. This talisman is meant to hold that moment — to be worn, carried, or kept close as a constant reminder.
These amulets are normally offered at a value nearly equal to the zine itself, making this release both rare and meaningful. Only a limited number are available. Once the talismans are gone, the offer ends.
WHY A ZINE?
I made this because I had to.
Because something in me was breaking apart, and building itself back, differently.
Because I see a world lost in screens. Starving for meaning. Forgetting how to be human.
Drowning in information. Starving for wisdom.
BODY.TXT became my way through the noise.
A reminder. A signal. A way to speak to the soul, mine, and maybe yours.
We live in an age of miracles. And yet we are more disconnected than ever. Chronically online. Spiritually underfed. Our minds shrinking while the universe expands.
This life is a rare thing.
A conscious being on a rock, moving through an infinite cosmos.
And we forget.
As children, we imagined. We dreamed.
Somewhere along the way, that spark was buried under attachments, distractions, expectations.
We traded awe for algorithms.
This is a wake-up call.
A field guide.
A mirror.
A map.
To remember what it means to be here.
To live. To feel. To reconnect.
To return to the body. Expand the mind.
Step back into the mystery.
If this reaches one soul, if one person reads this and feels more alive, it was worth it.
Give it to someone who needs a pause.
A brother. A friend. A man who carries too much in silence.
This isn’t something you read once and shelve.
It’s meant to stay close, on your desk, your coffee table.
Waiting for the moment you forget what matters.
Open anywhere. Let it slow you down. Bring you back to yourself.
A limited, physical thing.
No notifications. No updates.
Each volume a different constellation,
but always the same:
timeless lessons for the ones who are listening.